Harry Potter, Prelude to the Reign of Terror
by TheCakeThief
Summary: In the past, the Order of the Dragon assembles to fight Voldemort. In the present, strange things are happening in the wizarding world, and they all seem to be connected to 3 new students and a prophecy. Meanwhile, Voldemort seeks to regain power.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but you knew that. That honor belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Harry Potter, Year Six

Prelude to the Reign of Terror

Authored by TheCakeThief

Chapter One

The Witches of Salem

It was Halloween night in Salem, Massachusetts. In the spirit of historical relevance, the entire town was celebrating, dressed as witches and ghouls. Many were drunk in revelry of the night. Music played loudly from homes, and children ran around with bags of candy, yelling excitedly. A young girl ran around, a broomstick between her legs and a wand in her hand. It was all in good fun, because everyone knew there was no such thing as _magic._

Yet there were several people gathered that night that would blatantly disagree, who would prove just the opposite in a matter of minutes.

A man in his forties was dressed as others dressed that night, in long black robes and a pointy hat. He had dark blue eyes and premature white hair, which he kept neatly clipped in the fashion of many men. A woman his age was dressed similarly. She had a long braid of dark brown hair down her back, and had a face that looked too tired for forty. A set of matching wedding bands indicated that the two were married.

A younger couple stood opposite of them, hands clasped tightly. They two wore matching wedding bands. The young man had black hair, and shared similar features of the elder man across from him. His eyes were dark blue, and he too wore dark robes. The young woman across from him had extremely short auburn colored hair and hazel eyes. THer face was covered in freckles, and she wore a grave expression that didn't quite seem to fit her beautiful oval face. She too was dressed like everyone else.

The four seemed to be waiting for something. They spoke no words to each other. Just then, there was a faint popping noise and a man appeared out of thin air. He seemed to be out of breath, and it was then that they noticed his tattered and bloody robes.

"It's…him…Voldemort. Must contact…Order…" He whispered, and then promptly fainted.

The white haired man knelt quickly to check the pulse of the man on the floor. He breathed relief and looked up at the younger man. "Dean, send the owls at once." Dean ran from the room, heading towards the back door. He looked up at his wife. "Martha, I need you to find the President of the Federation."

The youngest woman stood, obviously shaken. Her face had turned white beneath the freckles. "So…this is it, then." She said softly.

The white haired man looked up at her and nodded. He pulled a wand from under his robes and whispered "_Levicorpus." _The body of the man suddenly floated in the air. He pointed the wand at the man and walked forward, and the man floated before him. He placed him on the couch of the living room and then looked somewhat uncomfortable. "I'll be back." He said. Almost before he finished speaking there was a faint pop and he was gone.

The young woman was left in the room alone with the body of the man who had just fainted on the floor. She pulled her wand from underneath her robes and pointed it at the man. She whispered a few words, and the blood seemed to disappear from his body. Suddenly, the cuts were mending themselves. She smiled softly.

Angela Harris was a gifted nineteen-year-old magical healer. She had trained at the Salem School for Witchcraft and Wizardry since the age of eleven, and had only just graduated a year earlier. Angela Harris was also the youngest member of the Order of the Dragon, a sister organization of the Order of the Phoenix. Both were created in response to the growing power of the Dark Lord Voldemort, a man who had killed both of Angela's muggle-born parents while they were on holiday in Europe.

In response to the death of her parents, several relatives showed up at her door unannounced. When they discovered her to be a witch, they were ecstatic, as most of the family on her father's side was composed of witches and wizards. Apparently her father had not been a muggle at all. He had merely found no use for magic, and fell in love with a muggle with whom he was sure he could not share his secret. Angela had always wondered why her father had been so lenient as to allow her to go to some school that her mother called "demonic" and "a joke."

And now, here she was, a Healer for the Amercan Federation of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Standing in the home of her husband Dean Aercroft, preparing to fight against the Dark Lord.

Angela was very afraid, and in fact, quite worried to fight against Voldemort and his followers. She had not yet told Dean that she was pregnant.


End file.
